


These plates they smash like waves (they’re just battle cries dear)

by dearericbittle (dutchmoxie)



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Baking Competition, Banter, Enemies to Lovers, Holidays, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-19
Updated: 2020-12-19
Packaged: 2021-03-10 06:34:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 20,487
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27960008
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dutchmoxie/pseuds/dearericbittle
Summary: It’s not about the prize money and the fame and glory, okay? It’s about proving once and for all that Stiles is a better baker than Derek fucking Hale. Not everyone can grow up with all the advantages of being born into a baking dynasty, but that doesn’t mean that Stiles isn’t at least twice as good. And this holiday season, he’ll prove it. Once and for all.
Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Comments: 56
Kudos: 305
Collections: 12 Days of Sterek





	These plates they smash like waves (they’re just battle cries dear)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [christinesficrecs](https://archiveofourown.org/users/christinesficrecs/gifts).



> Dedicated to my squad, and especially to Christine, who asked for this one months ago. Hope I delivered. 
> 
> (Also, Eric Bittle somehow entered the competition. Whoops?)

Stiles Stilinski is the best damn baker in California. Everyone with more than a single brain cell knows that. It’s just a shame that a lot of people in Cali seem to be in possession of just one brain cell these days, with the way they obsess over Derek fucking Hale. 

Derek Hale, oldest son of pastry legend Talia Hale and her late husband. A baking legacy going back generations, with his older sister Laura as the CEO of the Hale baking empire and his other siblings also involved in the company in various departments. Derek is the only one with his mother’s baking skills, and therefore the favorite of all the reporters. 

No one seems to want to know how Stiles got here. 

“Mr. Hale,” another reporter bats her eyelashes at Hale. “Who do you see as your toughest competition here?” 

The crowd gathered around Hale is making it impossible for anyone else to even get close to the man’s station. It’s probably the nice thing to introduce oneself to the competition, especially in a holiday-themed baking competition that has as much to do with goodwill as it does with talent and prize money. 

Though Stiles really fucking wants that money. And the glory, and to prove once and for all that Derek Hale is a hack who is only in the competition because of nepotism. Mostly that last thing. 

The grudge may be petty, but Stiles does not forgive, and he certainly does not forget. 

“I don’t,” Derek Hale immediately cuts her off. 

“Are you saying you have no true competition here?” The brunette shoving a voice recorder in Hale’s face immediately runs with it. “Is that you saying that you’re confident you’ll win?” 

What a fucking douchebag. Sure, Stiles knows that his business isn’t as big as the great Hale (evil) empire, but that doesn’t mean that Derek fucking Hale is actually the better baker. Stiles has never had any of his creations, but he’s pretty sure the man is all hot air. 

And muscles. All the muscles - which is why the female reporters are all over him, and some of the men look on with envy and frustration. And poorly hidden lust, in some cases. 

It shouldn’t even be about Hale. It should be about the baked goods. 

“And who might you be?” A familiar-looking blonde is the first to make her way to Stiles’ station. 

“Stilinski,” he refuses to hold out his hand, covered in flour as it is. 

Some people - Stiles Stilinski, the one and only - have been here for hours already, doing a test bake and trying to make sure the equipment does exactly what he wants it to do. He does not want to risk losing just because the settings on the oven aren’t doing exactly what they’re supposed to do - or what his oven at home does for him. 

Stiles Stilinski is going to win this thing. For glory. For justice. For the underprivileged kids who will be a getting a cut of the profits of this ridiculous enterprise. For fucking honor. 

(Shit, that Avatar marathon last night might have been a bad idea.)

“Of Mischief Bakery?” The blonde’s eyes widen. “My former boyfriend bought me a piece of your red velvet cheesecake last month. I proposed to him on the spot. We’re engaged now.” 

Alright, she just got a whole lot more interesting. It’s not just the sense that he’s seen her before somewhere, it’s that she just lights up when she talks about Stiles’ food - and about her fiance, because that is just a delightful story that Stiles would just love to hear more about. 

And not just for the sake of his own ego. Like some people (Hale). 

“Congrats,” Stiles smiles at her. 

“I’m Erica,” she introduces herself. “Not a reporter, don’t tell anyone. Just here to make sure everything runs smoothly. I’m a glorified PA, basically. That and I do makeup for the people who need it. Which… I’m pretty sure you’re not going to need my help at all.” 

The name just makes her sound even more familiar - and Stiles is definitely going to get to the bottom of that at some point, when he’s not distracted by the way Erica is eyeing him. 

“Thanks?” Stiles is a little off-balance right away. 

“Definitely a compliment,” Erica’s grin has gotten rather… wolfish. “If I didn’t have my Boyd.... Can I show you the ring? Everyone else is already sick of me talking about this.” 

She goes from predator to adorable bride to be within seconds and Stiles is just trying not to get some kind of emotional whiplash because of it. Still, there’s something about her that he cannot quite place, and he’s happy to keep listening to her stories, if only to finally figure out where the hell he’s seen her before. That and he just likes seeing how genuinely delighted she is - and how she doesn’t seem to care at all that the great Derek Hale is just two stations over. 

Stiles always likes people who don’t give a fuck about Hale. 

“Absolutely,” Stiles responds. “That and you should tell me what his favorite pastry is. Of muffin. Or cake. Or pie, I make a mean strawberry rhubarb.” 

He makes a mean anything, if he says so himself. And he does, say that. A lot. 

“That’s so sweet of you,” Erica grins at him some more, pushing her hand out to give him a better look at her surprisingly understated ring. 

“It’s beautiful,” Stiles comments, trying to figure out how he can use the design in a cake. 

Seriously, the pattern would make a lovely wedding cake for them - he’s pretty sure that he’s going to be offering to make Erica a wedding cake by the time this competition is over. He can just tell when people are going to be a part of his life - and Erica’s setting off all those sensors. 

“Boyd has great taste,” Erica winks. 

“He picked you, after all,” Stiles knows exactly where she’s going with that. 

Honestly, Stiles can’t blame the mysterious Boyd. Erica is charming, funny, beautiful and so fucking in love that it would be nauseating if she wasn’t so inherently likeable. As is, Stiles is trying not to suffer from some serious jealousy here. 

It’s been awhile since him and Lydia broke him. Maybe it’s time to start dating again. 

“I picked him,” Erica responds proudly. “I transferred schools yet again in like, eighth grade, walked into homeroom on my first day and it only took me about five minutes to recognize him as the love of my life. Though maybe it wasn’t just the deadpan joke. Maybe the Catwoman comic he was trying to hide was what really did the trick. Like I said, great taste.” 

Yeah, Stiles probably would have felt the same way if he’d ever transferred schools and found a fellow nerd in his very first class. Beacon Hills has never been all that kind to people of the nerdy persuasion, especially those who had illness-related embarrassments in front of their entire class and really enjoyed rambling about… 

“Catwoman?” Stiles repeats. 

“Don’t tell me you don’t know my girl,” Erica mock-gasps. 

Wow, he hasn’t thought about elementary school in ages. He hasn’t thought about his pre Scott years much, mostly because he actively tries not to. Because it still hurts to think about the time when it wasn’t just him and his Dad, in the years that his Mom was around and Stiles mostly just hung out with Mom’s best friends’ kids. Like Heather, until she changed schools, and… 

“Erica Reyes?” Stiles has to ask. 

“You remember me?” Erica visibly shrinks in front of him. 

Of course he does. Little Erica who was so very shy but idolized the comic book heroines that Stiles talked about all the time. Catwoman had always been her favorite, because of the way she moved and how she didn’t let bad things in her past get to her. How she didn’t have the perfect moral code that most heroes did, but she usually ended up doing the right thing, even if it was for the wrong reasons. It was fucking badass - still is, really. 

And Erica Reyes needed a world to escape to when Beacon Hills got cruel. 

“What did you just say to her?” Naturally, that’s when Hale shows up. 

Like some kind of knight in baker’s apron, Hale tries to push himself between Stiles and Erica as if he’s worried that Stiles is actually going to hurt her. And well, yeah, baker’s implements make great weapons (Stiles knows that from experience) but he’d never hurt a childhood friend. He’d never hurt anyone who doesn’t deserve it - and Erica never has. 

Stiles would sooner hit Hale over the head with a rolling pin. Twice. 

“Der, it’s fine,” Erica dares to roll her eyes at Hale. 

“It’s not,” Hale looks about ready to throw down here. 

He would obviously win, because while Stiles does have strong arms because of all the baking, the rest of him is still pretty scrawny. And like, that totally works for him - he’s not just skin and fragile bone anymore, he has some muscle and he has never wanted to look like some guy on ‘roids anyway. Not that someone as supposedly perfect as Hale would do ‘roids. 

Not openly anyway. 

Stiles isn’t trying to spread rumors here, but there has to be some reason why Hale looks like that, other than straight-up torturing Stiles. 

“He’s  _ Stiles _ ,” Erica emphasizes the name. 

“I know,” Hale says, still unimpressed as usual. 

And Stiles is kind of impressed by the fact that Hale has even bothered to learn his name - especially since Stiles isn’t actually his competition, or whatever braggart shit he was spouting to the panting journalists earlier. Probably because the son of Talia Hale should never be caught being rude to people’s faces. 

Behind their backs, however… That seems to be just fine by Hale. 

“Mieczyslaw Genim Stilinski,” Stiles holds out his flour-stained hand. 

It’s a test, of course, to see if Hale actually dares to get his hands dirty when he won’t be able to get anything out of it. Which, he’s not getting anything out of a handshake with Stiles, because Stiles will never - fucking ever - give him anything. Ever. 

“Derek,” Hale actually shakes Stiles’ hand, surprisingly enough. 

“And you only need the one name?” Stiles is less than impressed - again. 

Who the fuck does he think he is, Madonna? Cher? Hale’s last name is pretty much the biggest draw he has - the only one, according to Stiles. Why not use it? It’s what got him here. 

“Alright, boys,” Erica seems to be back to normal. “Put it back in your pants, there’s cameras around. You can whip ‘em back out to measure later. After hours.” 

Well, this competition’s already getting off to an auspicious start.

* * *

It doesn’t get any better when they actually start cooking. Stiles is still glowering in Hale’s general direction during the intro, which means that the cameras tend to stay far away from him to keep from ruining the holiday vibes. 

Because yes, this is a Christmas thing. Technically it’s a holiday thing, but no one’s actually bothered to do more than pay lip service to other holidays that take place at this time of year. So it’s a lot of Christmas stuff everywhere and the dishes that they were supposed to come up with in advance all have something to do with Christmas. 

Even though Stiles has some awesome ideas for Hanukkah-related stuff. 

“Pardon me, sweetheart,” the sweet boy from Georgia almost sings as he dashes past Stiles on his way back to his own station. 

Stiles is astonished at the level of cheer - not just because Erica’s compared him to the Grinch three times now, and they keep having to reshoot the intro because their host just can’t keep his lines straight. Stiles has never been good at patience, and pretty soon it’s going to be terrible for the continuity of the shot. How dare they ask him to stand mostly still for this long?

Isn’t he supposed to be here to bake? 

They have to establish the stakes first, though. And apparently that includes explaining the details of the competition in front of the cameras while only previously agreed upon people get to move around a little so they don’t have a completely static shot. 

Stiles is not one of the previously agreed upon people. It’s starting to hurt to be so still. 

“You’re allowed to unclench, you know,” Erica mutters from her position to the side of him. 

She has to be ready to fix any make-up disasters, but because their host is such a disaster in so many other ways, she just has to stand here and make sure that none of the contestants ruins the shot. Which means she’s mostly watching Stiles, of course. 

“When do we start baking already?” Stiles huffs. 

Finally the host manages a single salvageable take of the full into, and to Stiles it seems like the entire studio just breathes a sigh of relief. Except Hale, who gives Stiles a stern look when he mutters a ‘finally’ under his breath - even though he shouldn’t even be close enough to hear just what Stiles had been saying. 

Maybe Hale’s just against Stiles talking in general. In which case he is in for a very rude awakening, because Stiles is not a particularly quiet baker. He’s too used to having to instruct assistants and keep everyone’s spirits up as they get progressively busier. Also, he just doesn’t like being quiet. Quiet means silence, and silences were invented by the devil himself. 

Silence leaves time for thinking. Stiles doesn’t do that much anymore. 

“Alright, bakers,” the leader of this whole enterprise is a sweet old Asian lady who has a backbone of fucking steel. “We’ll be shooting some of your intros now. Please try not to speak during your competitors’ intros, or this will take a very long time. Feel free to move around a bit though. We don’t want it to look too staged.” 

Fucking finally! The sweet joy of actual fucking movement. 

Naturally though, Hale gets to go first in the intros, probably because his family is one of the major sponsors of this competition. Sure, they can’t appear to be too biased, but Stiles is pretty damn sure that they’ve already carved Hale’s name into the trophy and written his name on the ginormous cheque - even though he doesn’t actually need the money. Instead of being blatant from the start, they just like to show the bias in more subtle ways. 

“Tell us something about yourself,” the host seems a bit more at ease now. 

“I’m Derek Hale,” Hale grumbles, the smile on his face blatantly fake. “I’m twenty-eight years old, and I’ve been baking for all my life. Everyone thinks it’s my Mom who taught me. It was actually my Dad. That’s… Can we cut that? My Mom wouldn’t like it.”

How heartwarming, a boy and his Dad in the kitchen together, saying a fuck you to toxic masculinity. Stiles is trying not to be too blatant with the eye rolls, but judging by the look on Erica’s face, he hasn’t quite succeeded there. Well, whoops and all that. 

And what is up with Hale demanding a different edit? Seriously, is he that worried about his dear Mother’s feelings? Isn’t Talia Hale going to get final say over the final cut? 

“From the top,” the director (Kali?) almost smiles at Hale. 

But no, there’s no bias at all. It’s not like she and Talia Hale go way back or anything. 

“I’m Derek Hale,” Hale is still going with that fake-ass smile. “I’m twenty-eight years old, and I was born in California. We moved to New York when my father died, and I was lucky enough to have a family to have my back. They’ve tried just about everything I baked. There were a lot of stomach aches in the Hale household until I figured things out.” 

Oh, great, so he wasn’t always perfect, that’s such a charming story. Hale was mortal once too, and made mistakes. Can someone just get Stiles a barf bag or something? 

Erica’s not going to do it, probably, judging by the way she’s rolling her eyes at Stiles. For some reason she seems to think that Derek Hale isn’t actually the spawn of Satan and he deserves some actual consideration. Which… In the great words of Cher: As fucking if!

It’s all nice and charming and they thankfully don’t have to reshoot again, though. 

“Stilinski?” The host doesn’t even bother trying to pronounce the first name. 

“That’s me,” Stiles waves at the curly-haired blond. 

The cameras get moved and less than a minute later Stiles is actually in the spotlight in a national baking competition. Seriously, his life is kind of neat right now. 

“Call me Stiles,” he tells the cameras, knowing that at least his charming grin isn’t totally fake. “I know your sheets say Mieczyslaw, but that’s just a mouthful of torture. I wouldn’t want to put you through that. It is the basis of my bakery’s name though. My mother used to say I called myself Mischief before I could pronounce my name. I chose the name to honor her, and now Mischief Bakery is the most popular bakery in Northern California.” 

He’s damn proud of his business, because unlike some people he actually started from the ground up, without a wealthy family and the connections that come with it. No, Stiles is finally starting to repay a significant chunk of his business loans, which means that he might be out of the red by the time he’s forty. 

Honestly, still a lot better than he expected. 

“Thank you so much, Stiles,” the host feels like one take is enough, it seems. 

Hale, however, seems to find something objectionable about Stiles’ brief intro, because he’s basically attempting to stare Stiles to death from several stations over. So apparently the hatred is mutual, which is just fine by Stiles. 

He actually likes it better that way. 

By the time the boy from Georgia has his turn, Stiles is locked into a staring contest with Hale - one which might go on forever because neither of them are willing to admit defeat. Stiles has no fucking clue what he possibly could have done to make Hale hate him - because honestly, Stiles is the only one with legit reasons to hate his competition. But he can deal with Hale hating him as long as Stiles gets to expose his supposed talent as being one hundred percent nepotism. 

That’s the dream here. That and the prize. But maybe mostly exposing Hale. 

He’s totally going to do it. He’s got great karma like that. 

* * *

When they both make it through the first round, Stiles with distinction and Hale just barely missing out on being in the bottom two, Stiles may or may not gloat more than he should for someone who didn’t even win the challenge. 

Still, he beat out Hale, and for today, that’s enough. 

“You don’t like me much,” Hale apparently thinks this is the time to confront him. 

No fucking shit, Sherlock. But like, Henry Cavill in period garb Sherlock, because clearly Stiles would rather fantasize about that than be forced to communicate with Hale. Honestly, he doesn’t get why Hale is even bothering with this confirmation of their mutual hatred. Is he going to try for something particularly evil? If so, Stiles is totally ready for him. 

He’s expecting a dumb bet of some kind. A bet that he’s totally going to win. 

“Why would I?” Stiles doesn’t see a single reason why he would. 

What, just because Hale is almost as pretty as aforementioned Henry Cavill (maybe even a little prettier now that Hale’s stubble is coming in and he looks less like Clark Kent)? That’s not enough of a reason for Stiles to give a damn about him as a person. Just because the packaging is ridiculously up Stiles’ alley doesn’t mean that the inside isn’t an actual demon. Stiles has definitely learned that lesson a couple times over. 

“You don’t need to like me,” Hale is already contradicting himself. 

“Great,” Stiles is thrilled to be done with this stupid conversation, because he obviously has some more gloating to do. “Because I don’t. And I never will.” 

Now that they’ve established that, he’s hoping Hale will stop trying to have a conversation with him. The cameras don’t seem to be on them at the moment, and even if they were Stiles would want to get the hell out of here ASAP. Sure, Hale might want to look like a nice guy for the people at home, but Stiles can see through his shit. 

“Can you at least be professional?” Hale sounds exasperated already. 

Stiles is definitely getting to him already. He didn’t expect it to be that easy. 

“I’m the personification of professionalism,” Stiles even manages to paste on a smile. 

At some point the cameras are going to turn back to them, because the show is obsessed about showing the holiday spirit and people getting along and showing the personalities of the bakers outside of the challenges. They’d love supposedly candid footage of Stiles Stilinski and Derek fucking Hale chatting casually while the judges debate who needs to go home. Just so they can really dive into the drama if they’re up against each other in a future challenge. 

Though if the cameras want to sell a friendship, Hale needs to stop looking like that. 

“Ugh,” Stiles huffs. “Stop giving me that judgmental face, asshole.” 

Hale is looking like he doesn’t believe Stiles’ professional air for one second, and it just makes Stiles want to make him choke on said professional air. Because Stiles has worked with many an asshole over the years. Hale is nothing special. 

“Stiles, please keep it PG,” Erica grins at him. “We’re trying to make a show for the whole family here. You can save the swearing for when you hang out with Gordon Ramsey.” 

If only that would actually happen. That would be, well, fucking awesome. 

So maybe he gets a little caught up in a fantasy world in which Stiles gets a show with Gordon Ramsey where Stiles gets to critique the terrible and ridiculous dessert options at most of the dumb restaurants Ramsey goes to. They’ll curse a lot and make fun of the assholes while reassuring the harmless staff that’s somehow always caught in the middle. 

It would totally be a ratings smash, and Stiles might even get an Emmy. 

“He’s a nice guy,” Hale’s voice somehow breaks through the haze. 

“Who?” Stiles asks before he can think about it. 

Obviously he knows what the answer is, but his mouth works faster than his brain and also he just can’t believe that Hale is resorting to name-dropping already. Heck, Hale’s probably met most of the panel of judges before in a professional context. They’re probably all big fans of his mother and will absolutely let Hale win to stay in her good graces. 

That’s why he’s through to the second round, after all, after his ‘underwhelming’ dish. 

“Gordon Ramsey,” Hale responds, the ‘duh’ implied. 

“Oh, of course you know him,” Stiles is having so much fucking trouble not rolling his eyes too obviously. “You’re probably buddies with him. You and your family.” 

The Hales are probably buddies with every single person Stiles has ever idolized. Heck, it’s possible that Hale has even met the aforementioned sexy Sherlock Holmes. Stiles wouldn’t be surprised, like, at all. 

That’s just how nepotism and fame work, after all. God, Hale is the worst. 

* * *

When the second challenge is announced, Stiles is happy to continue to think that Hale is the absolute worst - as a person but also as a contestant. He’s keeping his fingers crossed for this to be the challenge that sends Hale home. 

Stiles would be glad to see the back of him. Not just because of That Ass. 

A little because of That Ass, though. 

“This challenge is meant to show how well you can work together,” the host, a guy Stiles has finally figured out is named Isaac, announces with a far too snarky smirk on his face. “We are trying to show our holiday spirit here, and working together is a big part of that.” 

Oh, of course they’d do this now that there’s only eight candidates left (there had been ten, but both losers had gotten sent home after the first challenge, in some kind of surprise twist that has clearly been stolen from Drag Race). They get to split the group into four duos, and just really push that adorable friendship narrative that they’re trying to force here. 

Stiles wouldn’t call any of these people his friends. Though he’d be happy to work with Georgia. 

Is it rude that he still doesn’t know the guy’s name? Maybe he’s been a little too focused on beating Hale and not enough on networking with some of these people. They could be valuable people for him to get to know, and Georgia, at least, isn’t baking royalty either. Apparently he’s some kind of YouTube star with a baking channel. Stiles could definitely use his help in his own marketing endeavors, because Mischief Bakery’s online presence is kind of meh. 

He’s already steadily inching towards Georgia, when he’s forced to stop. 

“We’ve already assigned your partners,” Isaac is still fucking grinning. 

Of course they have. Why is Stiles even surprised by this? 

He tries to find Erica, because she’s pretty much the only friend he has in this place and he’s pretty sure she’d be game to make fun of the predictability of this show. He’d propose a drinking game if the booze wasn’t so closely monitored on set. 

What? Stiles had to check. There’s some good recipes that involve alcohol. 

“Hope you’re ready,” Erica mouths at him from her position all the way to the side of the room. 

That? That is definitely not a good sign. 

“Hale and Stilinski,” Isaac announces the first duo.

Stiles doesn’t even hear what he says next. He’s too busy trying not to look as angry on the outside as he is on the inside. Like, he’s instantly furious that he’ll probably be in the bottom two this week because of Hale’s incompetence and their absolute inability to work together. And he knows that if they do end up in the bottom two, Stiles is the one who’s going home. 

There is no way that Talia Hale’s son is getting eliminated this early. 

“Join your partner, please,” Isaac requests when he’s finished calling out the duos. 

Naturally, because he’s the most stubborn guy in the competition, Stiles waits for Hale to come to him. If they’re going to do this, they’re going to be working at his station, where everything is in exactly the right place for the way Stiles likes to work. Hale can just deal. 

And yeah, it takes a little too long according to the impatient looking crew, but finally Hale heads towards Stiles’ station, and Stiles manfully avoids fist-pumping victoriously. 

That just wouldn’t play right on camera. 

“Can you please try and be professional for once?” Hale hisses from between clenched teeth. 

“Like I said,” Stiles may be enjoying this whole bullshit situation a little bit now, “I’m the personification of professionalism.” 

It’s a total lie, because he’s a petty fucker who would gladly torpedo Hale’s chances if it got Stiles back on top where he belongs. He’s determined to win this competition - almost as determined as he is to make sure that Hale doesn’t. And Stiles is not just suddenly going to play nice with his enemy just because they have a job to do. 

Who says Stiles can’t compartmentalize? 

“Just because it’s alliterative doesn’t mean it’s true,” Hale actually dares to roll his eyes. 

“That’s a big word for a beefcake like you,” Stiles mocks. 

Okay, so maybe it’s not the straight-up insult he would have preferred, but he’s a little bit distracted by the way Hale’s stupidly tight shirt moves when he flexes his muscles. And for some reason being frustrated with Stiles involves using lots of muscles. 

“I graduated magna cum laude from NYU,” Hale hisses at him. 

“Summa cum laude,” Stiles is loving having the upper hand here. “Berkeley.” 

This is everything. This is truly the evidence that karma is glorious, because Stiles has managed to beat Hale at this thing without even knowing it. It’s not like he’s obsessed with Hale and knows about his college years or his personal life - he just knows that Hale is an elitist douche who’s only gotten to where he is because his mommy did everything for him. 

Who knows, maybe she even bought those grades for him. 

“Time to come pick up your assignments,” Isaac announces. 

Judging by the annoyed looks on some of the other contestants’ faces, this is not the first time he’s said it. Apparently Stiles and Hale’s little spat has taken up some of their valuable time in the spotlight. Stiles wouldn’t mind that much, except he’s not actively trying to be an asshole to anyone but Hale. So he probably has to make some apologies later on. 

“I’ll go,” Stiles charmingly grins at Hale - it’s fake as fuck, naturally. 

Before Hale can say or do anything, Stiles is already walking towards the host, shooting vaguely apologetic looks at his fellow contestants. Georgia is the only one who actually seems to get it, which is another reason why he’d clearly be a far better person. 

But alas, Stiles has for some reason angered Erica Reyes enough for her to meddle in the match-ups. Obviously she had something to do with this. 

Maybe he should make her something nice to take home to her dude after this. Just so this is the last act of betrayal. Because clearly this is a betrayal of elementary school friendship. And whatever the reason is that Erica and Hale know each other somehow. 

“Alright,” Stiles brings his chosen envelope back to his station - theirs for the time being. “You can open it. We’re an equal partnership, after all.” 

There is nothing fucking equal about them, and they both know it. 

* * *

They don’t lose the challenge. They don’t win either, because of some bullshit one of the judges spouts about their souffle not being up to the exacting standards of the program. And like, Stiles has made hundreds of thousands of souffles by now, he can pretty much do it in his sleep even with Hale breathing in his neck. Which, that’s definitely a thing that happened. 

Hale had done most of the decorating though, because his hands are stupidly steady. Naturally the decorating was the thing about their dishes that got unanimous praise. 

Though the judges looked surprised when Stiles gave Hale the credit for it. 

(Only because it looked nice for the cameras, obviously. And because it supports his narrative that these judges are biased as fuck and will appreciate anything Hale does.)

Anyway. He’s survived, and now he never has to work with Hale again. He ranks in the top again on the third challenge, while Hale is solidly in the middle - which is infuriating because Stiles can’t focus on making friends with the other competitors while Hale is taking up all his damn attention. They’re down to six people already, and Stiles is hungry for a fucking win. 

And for Hale to be unceremoniously kicked out. Naturally. 

Maybe this time? The judges loved what he did for the fourth challenge and they’re currently deliberating about the winner and loser… Stiles feels like he stands a real chance here. 

“You have a hashtag,” Erica bounces over to him. 

It’s been a day since the airing of their second challenge, and since they’re not allowed to use the internet while filming this, Stiles has no idea what the fuck the response has been. He hasn’t even been allowed to talk to his family for fear that they’d spoil something or tell him something that he’s not supposed to know. It’s lonely as fuck and Stiles kind of hates it. 

He really needs some Scotty time to complain about Hale. 

“I have a hashtag?” Stiles raises his eyebrows, secretly pleased. 

“Not just you,” Erica is just gloating now. “Sterek has been trending since last night.” 

Great, so people are actually noticing him, that’s kind of really fucking awesome. Because like, on the off chance that he doesn’t win this thing, the positive attention would still help him push Mischief Bakery into the national spotlight. Maybe he can open that second location that he’s been dreaming of for a while now, so he can have his people do more whimsical wedding cakes while he focuses on inventing new signature baked goods. 

“What the fuck is Sterek?” Stiles tries to sound it out in his head, only to... “Oh no.” 

It’s obviously a portmanteau, and a particularly embarrassing one if you ask him. Because obviously this Sterek thing is meant to be Stiles + Derek and Stiles is so very tempted to delete all of his social media just so that he never has to hear about it. Ever. 

“Oh yes,” Erica is grinning that annoyingly smug grin of hers. 

The odds are pretty good that Erica had something to do with that fucking name, or at least with its trending status. There is no way she’s gloating like that if she wasn’t actually involved in some part of this - other than the part where she was totally involved in the two of them getting paired up in the first place. Because even though Stiles doesn’t technically have any proof of that, he knows Erica and he knows how she works. That was all her. 

This? This is definitely at least part Erica as well. 

“What’s wrong with the internet?” Stiles sighs heavily. 

“So many things,” Hale says, from where he’s suddenly right next to Stiles. 

That man is like a cat and Stiles is going to have a heart attack about that at some point. Hale just moves so silently and that is always followed by a shiver down Stiles’ spine when he’s suddenly mere inches away from Hale. When he could have sworn Hale had been lurking on the opposite side of the room. The man does lurk, like, a lot. 

“And you’re even agreeing on things now,” Erica dramatically fans herself. 

Why is that even something worth fanning herself over? It is barely even an agreement, just because they are both annoyed at how fucking dumb people on the internet are doesn’t mean that they’re suddenly buddies. If so, Stiles would be buddies with so many people. 

“What did you do, Erica?” Hale is just as amused as Stiles is - which is to say, not at all. 

“I didn’t do a damn thing,” she straight-up lies in response. “Boyd, however…” 

See? At least partly an Erica Reyes production. Even if it’s just her influencing Boyd.

Hale seems to have put that together as well, and at some point Stiles is going to figure out how Erica and Hale know each other and how Boyd is involved as well. That and Stiles is going to make sure he meets Boyd at some point, because he’s just dying to find out what the guy who snagged Erica Reyes is like. Stiles is pretty sure he’ll be delightful. 

And completely unlike Derek fucking Hale. 

“What did you make Boyd do?” Hale is losing his patience already. 

“I don’t make him do anything he doesn’t want,” Erica bats her eyelashes, because she is a queen who Stiles really shouldn’t adore this much. “But I can’t help it if he talks to your sister sometimes. And Laura just loved the episode.” 

Look, Stiles still adores Erica even when he’s tempted to want to wring her neck. He was leaning towards the wringing her neck thing until he saw the look on Hale’s face - Hale is even less amused by this situation than Stiles is. Stiles is pretty sure it’s because of Laura. 

Laura Hale might be a legend in the business world, but she’s also Derek Hale’s older sister which means that she probably lives to embarrass him. She’d be a good ally to have. 

“Oh no,” Hale says, actually paling. 

“Oh yes,” Erica seems to enjoy putting herself in that position. 

And yeah, Stiles is kind of enjoying it as well because anyone who has that amount of power over Hale is automatically one of his favorite people. Though he suspects that Laura Hale would tear him to shreds if Stiles ever tried to express his hatred of Derek fucking Hale. 

Obviously Laura Hale is the top dog among the Hale siblings. All five of them. 

“So she started it?” Stiles tries to get control back of the conversation. 

“Whatever it is,” Hale starts, “Laura definitely started it. She always does.” 

Yep, Stiles would definitely like that one if she wasn’t a Hale and therefore on his nemesis list. It’s quite a lengthy list by now, but that’s fine. He’ll just demolish them one at a time. 

“Congratulations Stiles,” Isaac announces and Stiles actually startles. 

Starting with Derek Hale. Because Stiles won a challenge. Fuck yeah. 

The cameras immediately focus on Stiles, as Erica suddenly and miraculously manages to disappear, leaving Stiles standing awkwardly next to Hale. It’s one of those shots that look a lot more companionable than they actually are, which means that Erica and/or Boyd are definitely going to make sure that there’s a Sterek hashtag on this little scene. 

“Congrats,” Hale tells him. 

“Congrats on your imminent Oscar,” Stiles whispers to Hale. “You don’t even sound like you hate me. That’s just impressive.” 

It earns him a look from his supposed competition, as Hale is starting to look particularly exasperated again as Stiles gracefully accepts the applause from the other competitors. And not so gracefully accepts the slow clap that Hale thinks will pass for actual applause. That moron. 

Still, he’s not looking at Stiles like he wants to murder him. That’s… new and different. 

Stiles really doesn’t like it. It’s suspicious. 

“You deserved to win this one,” Hale magnanimously says. 

And like? The fuck? Magnanimous? Hale? Something is rotten in the state of California. 

This is truly suspicious as fuck and Stiles is not having any of this. Like, as soon as the cameras turn away, he is going to be all over Hale and his surprisingly not terrible acting. He is going to find out the hidden motive here if it kills him. And it just might. 

Except the cameras stay on Stiles - on the both of them - as Isaac announces the departure of one of the other competitors that Stiles hasn’t bothered to get to know. Apparently this is the reaction show they want to get: Stiles pretending to look at least a little sad about it and Hale staring straight ahead, showing absolutely no emotion whatsoever. 

Seems the acting skill was very, very temporary. 

“We have a top five,” Host Isaac announces. “Time to shake things up.” 

Oh, fucking hell. Of course there’s a surprise twist. Stiles should have known. 

Though he’s not sure how he could have known that it would involve Allison Argent. 

* * *

The Hales and the Argents have years and years (and generations) of animosity between them, and really Stiles should not be surprised that they’d bring in an Argent to shake things up. Allison is the most likely choice, seeing as most of her family is currently otherwise occupied (dead or in jail), and while Chris Argent is a silver fox that Stiles has totally never even looked at that way… Allison is the one with the personal history here. 

Not just with Derek and the rest of the Hales. With Stiles too - or with Scott, to be precise. 

“Fuck,” Stiles hisses, trying not to show how much he hates this. 

He is going to have to deal with some dumb high school shit here on top of his continued hatred of Hale. Like, sure, the producers probably don’t know a whole lot about Stiles’ connection to Allison - it’s clear that they’re aiming for a Hale vs Argent smackdown here, probably one in which Allison completely eviscerates Derek Hale. 

Because these judges love baking in the French tradition. And Allison Argent? Trained in France, and she’s been hiding there ever since she bailed on Scott like a… coward. 

“What?” Hale turns to him in shock. 

“This is not going to be fun for either of us,” Stiles just wants to hide right about now. 

The producers probably don’t know yet, and he can hopefully still make it out of this thing without airing all of his best friend and stepbrother’s emotional dirty laundry on national television. As long as he can just paste on a smile and pretend that he isn’t dreading being faced with his potential sister-in-law again after all this time. 

Though Stiles is pretty sure his fury is showing all over his face. 

“What did the Argents ever do to you?” Hale is actually curious. 

“Nothing as bad as the whole, whatever,” Stiles makes a motion that’s supposed to encompass generations of inter-family conflict and crimes committed. “She broke my best friend’s heart when she left for France in the middle of the night without even saying goodbye.” 

It’s been fucking years, and Stiles still remembers it like it was yesterday. It has taken literal years for Scotty to move past this, especially since he still doesn’t have closure. Sometimes he still wonders what he did wrong, even though Scott’s kickass girlfriend (and Stiles’ actual future sister-in-law if he has anything to say about it) is really good at reassuring him that he’s a literal puppy who did nothing wrong here. That it was Allison who was in the wrong. 

And to be honest, she still is. She’s had years to do better. She hasn’t. 

“That’s it?” Hale seems less than impressed. 

“It was a big deal to Scotty,” Stiles is always going to defend his best friend. “They were totally in love. Like, Scott was going to follow her to college and eventually marry her. She was totally going to be my future sister-in-law and she just bailed on everything literally the day before graduation. We only found out at our graduation ceremony. It was bad. ” 

That’s his brother, okay? His brother from another mother (who has been his stepmother since shortly after the whole Allison debacle). And yeah, it doesn’t fucking live up to the actual property damage and physical damage that the Argents have done to the Hales in the literally generations of their vendetta, but that doesn’t mean that Stiles hasn’t earned the right to be really fucking pissed at Allison Argent. 

“Was that before or after her aunt set our family business on fire?” Hale growls. 

“Okay, point Hale,” Stiles reluctantly admits. “Nothing was broken except Scotty’s heart. Except I kind of value that overly sentimental heart a lot, dude.” 

So, the Allison debacle happened pretty shortly after her aunt died while evading police custody, which means that maybe the Argents went into hiding because of whatever bullshit Katherine Argent dragged up when she died. Still. Cool excuse, still fucking abandonment. 

“My uncle was in the hospital for years,” Derek hisses. “He’s still a recluse.” 

Stiles isn’t a completely heartless asshole - he knows that what happened to Peter Hale is truly fucking terrible and that Scott’s heartbreak is nothing compared to it. But like, Scott’s heartbreak is the thing that Stiles has actually lived through, and it’s therefore the thing he has perspective on. And it’s the thing he promised to hate Allison for. For all eternity. 

Literally. They made a brotherly pact and everything. Not that Hale would understand. 

“Never said your shit wasn’t worse, dude,” Stiles huffs. “But maybe we should try not to look too murderous when the cameras are on us. That will be much more difficult for you than for me, since your murder brows have been out in full for most of the competition.” 

Stiles is adorable and he knows it, and he knows how to make himself come off as mischievous and lovable instead of like a petty asshole with a grudge. He’s mostly been managing that with anyone except Hale (and possibly Erica), so he’ll get through this just fine. Hale, though? That Oscar-winning congratulations moment was clearly a fucking fluke. 

Hale literally always looks like he’s lowkey contemplating murder. 

Though it isn’t nearly as lowkey right now. Wow. 

“Don’t growl at me,” Stiles hisses. 

“I’m not growling at  _ you _ ,” Hale is still growling though. 

Somehow, Stiles has unconsciously placed himself between Hale and the perceived danger, because he’s an idiot with no self-preservation skill who’s far too conscious of the way Erica is standing on the sidelines, eyes wide with horror. 

She knows a lot, but they clearly hadn’t told her about this part. Or Hale would have known - Erica isn’t the kind of evil person who would blindside him like this. 

_ Stiles _ isn’t that kind of person. He wants Hale out, but not like this. 

“Derek,” Allison Argent is suddenly in front of them. “Stiles.” 

Oh, good, she’s actually acknowledging his existence, that’s awesome. Stiles is going to pretend that it isn’t awkward that she talked to Derek first even though Stiles is literally standing in front of him like some kind of overprotective mom friend. And Stiles is none of those things. 

So he steps to the side in order to give Hale a chance to have his say. He clearly needs it. 

Except nothing comes out. The murder brows, they’re out in full force, of course, but Hale doesn’t seem to be able to form actual words right now. And since Stiles is always able to form enough words for the two of them - or the entire fucking crew...

“Allison,” Stiles finally addresses her when he realizes Hale won’t do it. “How’s France been treating you? Broken any hearts lately? Bailed on any friends while you were at it?” 

Look, is Stiles aware that he’s going to get the bitchy ex edit because of this? Yes. Does he give a damn? Not really, because he’s defending his brother and that’s totally his God-given right. Scotty would never forgive him if he hadn’t - and seeing as all of this drama is being captured for a national audience, Scott is definitely going to find out about this situation. 

And not from Stiles, like it’s supposed to be. He deserves a warning. 

“Cut,” Kali yells. “Mister Stilinski, what the hell was that?” 

That? Some of his best material - he’s tried not to spend too much time thinking of what he’d say to Allison if he ever saw her again (not in the last few years anyway), but that doesn’t mean that he doesn’t still have a few things prepared in case the opportunity arises. 

Well, the opportunity has definitely arisen. That’s for damn sure. 

“I have beef,” Stiles announces. “Is that not what you wanted for the drama, or whatever?” 

Stiles has watched enough reality television, and enough competition shows, to call himself somewhat of an amateur expert (no matter that it’s kind of an oxymoron). He knows all about the kind of manufactured drama that just always seems to happen on shows like this one - because the producers obviously make sure it will happen. 

They probably didn’t know that Allison Argent was a two for one deal, but they know now. 

“We’re making a holiday show here,” Kali is less than thrilled by Stiles’ continued existence, it seems. “This is a story of redemption. Of burying the hatchet. On national television.” 

Burying the hatchet? Stiles is not ready to bury any - Fucking hell. 

This is not about Stiles. It never has been. It’s been about Hale the whole time, and about how the producers are trying to push some kind of narrative that involves Hale being faced with the niece of the person who almost killed one of Hale’s family members. Like, if they were doing it for the drama, Stiles could almost understand (even though he thinks it’s reprehensible). But since they’re doing it for a forced reconciliation… Without Hale knowing in advance? 

There’s not enough fucking yikes in the world to describe that. 

“The fuck?” Stiles very heroically does not screech. 

“This really isn’t about you, Mister Stilinski,” Kali is stating the obvious. 

No fucking shit. Insert Henry Cavill joke here. Because Stiles always has thoughts about that. 

Stiles also has a whole lot of thoughts on how fucking gross this manipulation is. And like, he fucking hates Hale, so if he thinks it’s bullshit, these people are definitely going too far. Stiles doesn’t give a fuck about the guy, but he still thinks this shouldn’t have been allowed. 

Except someone signed off on this. 

“I know that,” Stiles raises his hands to the heavens. “It’s not me you’re actively traumatizing here. Or my brother. He can handle it. Hale, however…” 

Hale is pale, like all of the blood has fled his body. He’s clenching his fists so hard that Stiles wouldn’t be surprised if at least one of his nails draws blood. Stiles kind of feels for him for a second there, even though Hale is still objectively a waste of a spot in this competition. 

“I’m fine,” Hale is lying through his clenched teeth. 

“I’m sorry I ever nominated you for the Oscar,” Stiles shakes his head. “You’re going to have to do a whole lot better than this if you want to go home at some point. We’ll be here a while.” 

Look, Stiles never promised that he’d be in any way nice about this. Hale is the fucking worst, except right now Allison Argent is here and she’s just slightly more the worst than Hale, because at least Hale has never made Scott McCall cry (as far as Stiles knows). And any slight against Scotty is obviously far worse than all the shit that the Hales have done to Stiles. 

“Take five,” Kali shouts. “Hale, go clean yourself up. And try to look less murderous in your surprise next time. We need to make this believable, after all.” 

Stiles flips her the finger behind her back and motions for Erica. He has a pretty strong feeling that Hale isn’t going to want to talk to  _ him _ . 

* * *

Naturally by the time they actually get to shooting the next challenge (the next day, thank God, because it had taken much more than five minutes for Hale to look less like someone had cracked open his chest and ripped out his heart), Isaac announces another team challenge. And once again, they will not be allowed to choose their own team. 

So Stiles is forced to just stand there and seethe as Allison and Hale are paired up, even though he manages a surprisingly pleased smile as Georgia is announced as his own partner. 

His name still isn’t Georgia, but Stiles is still an asshole, so. Enough of an asshole to spend way too much time checking to see if Hale is losing it. Like, they’re having to set everything up, so technically this doesn’t take away from the time they have to complete the assignment, but this could be a time in which Stiles actually tries to get to know his fellow competitors. 

Other than Hale, who he clearly doesn’t want to get to know at all. 

Except they now kind of have a nemesis in common. Sort of. Because Stiles knows that Hale truly has it worse here, and Stiles was barely even affected. Even though friend break-ups suck. 

“It’s okay if you’re worried about your boyfriend,” Georgia breaks through the fog in Stiles’ mind. 

Seeing as it’s been ages since Stiles had so much as a date, Georgia must be talking to someone else - or about someone else, or maybe he’s just confused. Because the last time Stiles had an actual boyfriend? That was years ago. College, maybe? 

What does it say that he can’t even remember the last time he went on a date?

“Boyfriend?” Stiles is trying so hard not to look offended. 

“Well, clearly I misread that one in a big way,” Georgia looks a little worried now. “You two are just always staring at each other and with the hashtag, I figured you two were involved.”

Oh yes, because staring at each other and having lots of online fangirls - and fanboys - definitely constitutes being in an actual relationship. And the defending thing? Clearly Stiles is just a decent person deep down because he managed to get over his life-long grudge against Derek Hale to step in when he was faced with an actual enemy. Or like, a relative of the enemy - because technically Allison hasn’t actually acted against the Hales. 

Yet? Or is that Stiles still being pissed about her bailing on Scott? 

He really isn’t good at remaining unbiased. Obviously. He has a massive bias and he kind of doesn’t care who knows it. 

“I’m super bisexual,” Stiles starts, because that’s definitely a valid place to start, “but I’m definitely not dating  _ Hale _ of all people. He’s my nemesis.”

Look, Stiles doesn’t want to make Georgia feel in any way uncomfortable about potentially outing Stiles or assuming his sexuality, so obviously he has to lead with the bi thing. Judging by the cute little rainbow pin on Georgia’s collar, he’s in the right place to mention it.

It’s the Hale thing that Stiles takes offense to. Hale, of all people. 

“Right,” Georgia definitely doesn’t believe any of this. 

“It’s obvious that he’s only here because he’s one of  _ those _ Hales,” Stiles is kind of feeling like a gossip-y bitch, but he really has to get it off his chest. “I have worked my damn ass off to get to where I am and I am up to my ass in loans. He can fall flat on his face a million times and still get up and try again, because the Hale fortune is that big.” 

It’s just not fair. Not fair that Stiles has to work his ass off to make sure that his Dad has a place to stay when he retires - which he will probably end up doing in the next five to ten years, if there are no serious incidents - while Hale can just experiment endlessly because his funding will never dry up. Stiles has spent the last… twenty (?) years worrying about money, ever since the medical bills started coming in and his Dad started drinking. 

The drinking has mostly stopped, but the bills are still there, slowly being paid off. Because after his mom’s bills came Stiles’ bills and then his Dad’s bills, and… It never fucking ends. Ever. 

“So that means I don’t deserve to be here either?” Georgia turns the tables on him somehow. 

“Of course you do,” Stiles has no idea what is happening. “You worked hard, did the YouTube thing, right? You built your own audience?” 

He distinctly remembers that Georgia is some kind of YouTube celebrity. Shit, he should really find out Georgia’s name somehow. Without actually having to ask and looking like a dick. 

So as a fellow self-made man, Georgia should be able to relate. 

“And my husband is an NHL superstar,” Georgia may be smiling, but Stiles can tell that’s all for the cameras, which means he’s really fucked up. “His mom is an actress, his Dad is a retired sports legend. They’re the reason I had multiple cookbooks out before the age of twenty-five.” 

Wait, what? Is this where Stiles admits he only cares about baseball and lacrosse?

It’s weird how he doesn’t share the same vendetta against Georgia. So he married into a rich family, but he got himself most of the way there. He did the hard work, and he clearly deserves all of the accolades that the judges have been giving him literally since they got here. Stiles has been lucky enough to try a few bites of Georgia’s leftovers, and he’s been kind of jealous of the other man’s skill. Rick? Eric? Is just really good at experimenting with pies. 

The maple-encrusted pies are stupidly Canadian, but also stupidly good. 

Though the hockey husband kind of explains that - aren’t all good hockey players Canadian? 

Shit, Stiles is going to need to look up some great American players, to have some ammo, or whatever, for when he and Eric (?) become friends and Stiles meets the hockey husband. 

“The fuck?” Stiles manages to mutter. 

“Wow, you’re not a hockey person, are you?” Georgia may be laughing at him. “I get how hard it can be. Trust me, I know. Things haven’t been easy for me - or for my Jack, to be honest. Money helps, but… You know what poor Derek has been through. Honestly, I’m shocked he’s here, but clearly he’s trying to prove himself to those biased idiots calling themselves judges.” 

Yeah, okay, Derek Hale has had some pretty shitty things happen to him. But then again, so has Stiles. Except the Stilinskis didn’t have all that money to help them come back on top - their little family might be the best damn family in the history of the world, they’re still a bit battered and definitely kind of a bust when it comes to money. Nurses don’t make that much either - though having two people making money in one house does help. 

Yes, Stiles finally moved out when Melissa moved in. Obviously. 

“Biased?” Stiles repeats. 

That just does not compute. The numbers are not adding up. He feels like he looks like that gif of the woman staring into space while equations flash on the screen. Like, none of this makes sense, because Hale is terrible and the judges are supposed to be… impartial. 

“You best take those blinders off your face,” Eric is definitely bringing the sass now. “You do know that he’s been in the bottom most times, even though his food is some of the best stuff in the competition. Present company excluded, of course. You have a gift with souffles that my mama would love to talk to you about.”

Yeah, okay, Hale’s been in the bottom a lot. But like, he’s terrible and only here because of nepotism, so that totally makes sense. Except that Stiles has worked with Hale - landing both of them very close to being in the bottom - and while Hale was a bit of a pain to work with at times, he wasn’t actually that bad at the baking. Like, obviously the stuff Hale contributed was the stuff that actually got them praise. Even though the judges had been surprised. 

They’d been surprised that Hale was good? Or had they been surprised that Stiles admitted it? Or had they just assumed that Hale had made the souffle and they could therefore insult it? 

How many assumptions have been made about Hale in this competition? 

“Oh,” Stiles finds himself looking at Hale for some reason. 

Looking at Hale, who is carefully angled away from Allison, trying to stay as far away from her as he possibly can while still keeping them in the same shot. After all, the cameras have been on the two of them the whole time, completely ignoring the other contestants. 

Sure, they don’t even have an assignment yet, but that doesn’t seem to matter when it comes to capturing every second of the awkwardness between Argent and Hale. 

Stiles has no idea how they’re ever going to make that reconciliation work. 

* * *

By the time everyone’s finished their dishes and they’re just fiddling with the set-up before the big reveal, Stiles is pretty damn sure that Hale needs his particular brand of distraction more than anything. The guy just looks so uncomfortable, especially when Allison had tried to corner him the second the cameras turned away. That had been awkward. 

Stiles has no idea how they’ll ever pull off the big reconciliation. He doesn’t even want to think about the amount of takes that it is going to take for them to get it. If they can, at all. 

“It doesn’t look awful,” Stiles gets up next to Hale and nudges him. 

“Thanks?” Hale doesn’t seem appreciative of that effort. “I think.” 

Look, Stiles is not going to admit that the dish looks fucking incredible and that he knows that it’s mostly because of Hale’s efforts. While Allison is probably talented, Hale’s gift at decorating is truly extraordinary - Stiles is better at getting flavors and consistency just right, while Hale can work wonders with details and coloring. 

Not that Hale can’t do anything except make things look pretty. That would be rude of him to say, or think, or whatever. Even though Hale is definitely still the worst. 

Or almost the worst. Not as bad as these stupid judges, or Allison. Sorry not sorry. 

“Well, clearly that wasn’t Allison’s work,” Stiles doesn’t mind insulting her a bit more. “So that means you must have done some not terrible work here.” 

Hale just gives him an extremely skeptical look that is just kind of offensive to Stiles, since he is trying not to be an asshole right now. And all he’s getting from Hale is suspicion and confusion - which… Stiles hasn’t actually been that openly rude to Hale before, right? 

He’s said much worse to Jackson Whittemore back in high school. 

“Work with me,” Stiles sighs heavily. 

Does he think it’ll work? Nah, probably not. But that doesn’t mean he won’t try. Because Stiles Stilinski has always been stubborn about absolutely everything. That won’t stop now. 

If he’s going to be stuck with Hale for most of the holiday season, he might as well find out now. 

“Are you trying to be nice to me?” Hale finally seems to get it. “You’re really bad at it.” 

Great, Hale has clearly not gotten the whole ceasefire memo. Not that there was an actual memo - not that Stiles knows of, but he wouldn’t put it past Eric. Or Erica, really. 

Oh, now that is definitely going to get confusing at some point. Or it already is. 

Anyway, back to Hale who is still looking at Stiles like Stiles has done something to personally offend him. Which Stiles hasn’t done in at least a few hours now - he’s totally turned over a new leaf after that speech from Eric - and so he doesn’t appreciate the look. He’s moving on and focusing his anger on more appropriate targets. Because there is a larger conspiracy at stake here and Stiles is going to make sure that he is the one who exposes it. 

That restraining order - and a few other crimes on his record - might have kept him from becoming a proper detective, but that doesn’t mean he can’t still kick ass here. 

Metaphorically, probably. 

“How dare you?” Stiles is kind of easily offended, apparently. 

“Not terrible?” Hale repeats pointedly. “Did Bittle ask you to be nice to me? Because - don’t lie to me on his account. You can keep hating me if that makes you feel better.” 

Bittle! That’s the last name that goes with Eric, which means that he totally doesn’t have to use the confusing first name anymore. It’s not like he’s heard anyone using Eric’s first name pretty much since they started the competition. Or maybe that was him not paying attention. 

The shooting schedule is not exactly great for keeping his Adderall intake stable. 

“Can’t I just hate someone else more?” Stiles has to work not to let that come out as a whine. 

He’s not sure he succeeds, but he still thinks that he makes a totally valid point here, something that Hale should appreciate. Like, shouldn’t he be happy that he’s no longer at the top of Stiles’ enemy list? Or is his ego big enough for him to want to be at the top of every list? Stiles hasn’t seen too much of that ego, and he’s kind of been looking for it. 

It made a decent excuse for him to hate Hale. But it was just that, an excuse. 

Ugh, not being able to hate Hale that much anymore is so going to cramp his style. Even though it will make Erica happy, and Bittle too. And all the people on the internet who made up that dumb portmanteau. Everyone but Stiles is super happy. And Hale, of course. 

Stiles doesn’t know if Hale even has the ability to be happy. That’s kind of sad. 

“You’re an idiot,” Hale tells him. 

“This is why it’s hard to get people on your side, dude,” Stiles is going to try to explain it to him semi-nicely. “If you insult people when they’re nice to you, it doesn’t exactly give them a lot of incentive to keep doing it. And after I’m working hard to overcome my bias and shit!” 

It is kind of super entertaining to watch Hale and his dumb murder brows react to what Stiles is telling him. The sass is extremely obvious, and Stiles is extremely appreciative. Finding out that Hale isn’t just an emotionless robot programmed to be a decent baker is kind of a win, somehow. He doesn’t know why. It just is. For some reason. 

His brain is totally the worst like that. 

“So you’re admitting you were biased against me?” Hale is almost triumphant. 

“I have said nothing of the sort,” Stiles is going to deny his way out of this, naturally. 

All he admitted to was having a bias of some sort that he has since overcome. He hasn’t really linked it to Hale, not directly anyway, even though he knows that Hale is probably smart enough to connect the dots here. If he wasn’t smart enough, he wouldn’t be allowed to be Stiles’ actual nemesis. Because he’s got to have a challenge. 

And yeah, maybe Hale is kind of talented and kind of smart (and annoyingly attractive) and therefore a challenge. Maybe even in more than one way. 

“Of course you didn’t,” Hale rolls his eyes at Stiles. 

“First rule of being an asshole,” Stiles bounces on the soles of his feet, “don’t actually tell people anything incriminating. Just be annoyingly mysterious about it. Just enough to piss them off.” 

Pissing people off is just one of Stiles’ many hobbies. 

Also, getting Hale involved in this stupid conversation, and keeping him involved while the judges do their sneaky thing with pointed looks between Hale and Allison… It seems like the right thing to do, even though Stiles hasn’t historically been all that great about doing the right thing when it comes to Hale. Like, he used to figure out the right thing and then do the exact opposite just because he thought Hale deserved it. 

Maybe he deserved some of it. All of it? Probably not. 

“Of course you have a rule book,” Hale just sighs. 

“I can neither confirm nor deny,” Stiles is kind of enjoying this banter. “Seriously, you have to let me try some of your thing. That and just stare at the annoyingly perfect decorations. It’s just rude, dude. Didn’t intend to rhyme, but I’m sticking with it.” 

Naturally, Hale does not take a compliment well. Stiles really shouldn’t be surprised. 

Even though Hale should really be used to getting all the compliments because he’s not without talent, filthy fucking rich, and not bad to look at (yes, sometimes Stiles does have a gift for the understatement). So, like, a guy like that? People should be falling all over themselves to get in good with them, and yet Stiles is pretty damn sure that Hale is the one trying all the nice gestures while most people think it’s just playing nice for the camera. 

Stiles is starting to think that Hale is trying to make friends, in his dumb, awkward, stilted way. Not with Stiles, God no, but with Erica and even Isaac the host. Stiles hasn’t met the great Boyd yet, but he’s sure Hale will try to make friends with him too. 

Maybe he already has. Maybe that’s how Erica knows him. Stiles wouldn’t know. 

“Don’t call me dude,” Hale does not know what he’s signing up for. 

“I have so many other options,” Stiles promises. “No worries, big guy.” 

Hale groans, but he’s distracted from the drama, and for a second there Stiles actually thinks that he sees the corners of his mouth turn up into a smile. 

Naturally, that’s when everything starts to go to shit yet again. 

* * *

Of course Hale is the one who gets eliminated. 

Fuck, Stiles shouldn’t even be surprised at this bullshit, at the blatant favoritism of these damn judges. He shares a look with Bittle and the barely contained rage he sees there just makes him like that guy more. Seriously, they should totally be friends. 

The guy has exactly the kind of Southern, passive-aggressive, secretly vicious attitude that Stiles always enjoys in his friends. Okay, well maybe he doesn’t have any Southern friends yet, but that could totally change after this. When they make it to the finals together and then completely wreck this shit and show those damn judges what’s what. 

Or… Does Stiles do something now? Should he do something now? 

He knows that what’s happening is unfair, and he knows that the viewers have been manipulated into seeing Hale as another dumb rich boy trying to prove that he’s more than just a pretty face resting on his family’s talents. It’s a familiar narrative but not one that most viewers of a show like this one would be interested in. 

Well, other than the pretty packaging this one is in, of course. 

“Fucking bullshit,” Stiles mutters under his breath. 

What can he even do about this, though, without risking his own career? It’s selfish to just sit here and shut up and hope the cameras aren’t pointed at him right now. Sure, they probably got a shocked gasp out of him when they announced Hale’s name, but he refuses to give them anything else. He doesn’t want to fuel those fires. 

Or does he? Or is that what he can do? 

“Derek,” he rushes over to Hale, ready to bring the drama. 

Erica is waiting in the wings, but since the cameras are still very much focused on Hale, hoping that he’ll give them something profound to work with, while still being perfectly in the holiday spirit - well it makes it impossible for Erica to intervene just yet without putting her job in jeopardy. Because they totally would, wouldn’t they?

Honestly, why is a supposedly fun holiday baking competition turning into torture the Hale? Who is even behind Alpha Productions? There’s no way it’s the Argents, because the news media would have had a field day with it and made sure that everyone would know. 

So who else could be involved? And what do they have against Hale? Or the Hales? 

“Stiles?” Hale looks shell-shocked still. 

“I can’t believe you have to go,” Stiles is trying to remember what this scene would look like if it was in one of the telenovelas he and Scott totally aren’t obsessed with still. “I thought we were going to make it to the top together. And then I’d beat you, but still.” 

Hale is still making the vaguely constipated face that means that he’s not sure how to feel about all of this. He probably thinks that Stiles has lost it somehow - which yeah, that would totally make sense because Stiles hasn’t exactly been able to explain his ‘cause some drama’ plan to Hale before he put it into action. Still, he’s hoping Hale goes with it at least a little. 

If not, Stiles is just going to have to make it work without help. Which, he can do that. Easily. He’s just that good. He’s the one who should be getting the Oscar here, because Hale has never been all that consistent when it comes to his acting. More like, a single moment that was actually not that bad - nothing close to actual brilliance - and then a whole bunch of moments in which Hale was consistently awful. 

Clearly he is not made for television, even though he looks like it. 

“Stiles?” Hale is still kind of… off, and Stiles hates it. 

“I’m saying I’ll actually miss you,” he maybe dials back the act a bit. “Just a bit. Maybe. I know, shocking right? It’s true though. You haven’t been nearly as terrible as I’ve been expecting. In a multitude of ways. Don’t be a stranger, alright? I expect a Christmas card.” 

The babbling is back. It’s not something he’s proud of, and not something that he enjoys doing in front of a camera - especially not in a scene that he knows would never get cut because the producers know how much the viewers appreciate Hale and Stiles together. Also, he dislikes it because it makes him feel unsteady and awkward, and that’s not a feeling he enjoys having in front of Hale. Stiles is supposed to be the clear winner here. 

And now, in the competition, he is. At least, he’s made it further than Hale has. 

“You’re not as terrible as I thought you were,” Hale tells Stiles, seemingly out of nowhere. 

“I appreciate that,” Stiles almost manages a grin as Hale is motioned aside. “Don’t forget our beautiful time together! I’ll make some souffles in your honor.” 

There is some definite laughter from the crew, and Stiles is pretty damn sure that Erica is one of the people enjoying this ridiculous moment, even though she’s probably pretty unhappy that Derek has been eliminated this early in the program. He knows she’d been hoping for Derek to at least make it to the top three, for the final episode. 

Maybe Stiles will get to be in the final in his stead - even though it won’t be as fun. Even though his revenge against Hale plan blew up a while ago, it was still more fun with Hale here. 

“Ugh, I might actually miss him,” Stiles sighs to himself when the cameras turn away. 

They’ll probably film a few more scenes for Hale’s exit interview and then call it a day, unless there is another exciting twist that is clearly just a thinly disguised attempt at torturing Hale and making him feel like shit. Because it’s starting to look like that’s the actual theme of the show. 

Wasn’t this supposed to be a fun holiday baking competition? 

“I hope you’re happy,” he knows that the person sneaking up on him is Allison. 

When he turns around, he is indeed faced with his former friend. She is eyeing him far too closely and Stiles would really like to be able to pull off the kind of unaffected vibe that tells her he doesn’t care that she’s here, but well… He’s never been subtle a day in his life, and he’s definitely not about to start now. So he just has to deal with this, feelings on full display. 

“Why would I be happy?” Allison’s gaze is far too piercing. 

“That whole Hatfield and McCoy thing?” Stiles tries to make an emphatic gesture big enough to encapsulate a centuries-old family feud. “Your family and his family are enemies. So of course you’re happy that your rival has been sent home. You won, congrats!” 

Stiles would add a loud and sarcastic ‘hip, hip, hooray’ if he didn’t think that the cameras would most definitely pick up on that and make it into a massive thing. 

“I was always going to win,” Allison is still not looking away from Stiles. “Did you really think that Derek ever got a fair shot in this competition? The entire judges panel is made up of people who feel slighted by the Hales, they invited you to be on the show because they obviously heard about your issues with rich people seemingly having it easy. And they got me.” 

Okay, so he might have ranted to Allison about money and rich people a couple of times back when they were actually friends - it’s weird to discover that she manages to remember things about him even years later, when Stiles has been doing all he can to forget the little details he put together over the course of their high school years together. It’s been years, and yet he hasn’t managed to forget the way Allison used to lean against her locker waiting for Scott, or that stupid French phrase that she used to call the family motto. 

Protecting those who cannot protect themselves. 

Stiles is not sure what the fuck that has to do with being in the baked goods business, but he remembers it nonetheless. Because he’s never been good at forgetting. 

“So why did you even take them up on their offer?” Stiles questions. “Whoever they are.” 

Is Stiles actually going to have to do some detective work about the producers of this holiday baking competition? Is that actually what is going to happen here? Nefarious plans revolving around the Hale family during the holidays? It sounds like a Lifetime movie when it’s supposed to be a Hallmark one. Obviously there are fewer villains in Hallmark movies and more holiday magic and the power of love and or friendship. And fake Santa. 

He hasn’t seen a fake Santa yet, but he’s sure he eventually will. 

“It wasn’t so much an offer,” Allison glances around, trying to make sure that they’re not on camera right now. “And this way I get to do something about it. I’m working it from the inside, while Dad is involved on the outside. I’m not just a pastry chef, after all.” 

Well, color Stiles intrigued. He might actually listen to Allison, for once. Maybe he’ll find out something interesting by hearing her out for once. 

It’s a one time offer, though. 

“Tell me more,” Stiles demands, pasting on a pleasant smile. 

* * *

So, the last thing Stiles expected to come of that discussion was the fact that werewolves are apparently real. Sure, he’s been joking about holiday magic a little, but this was definitely not the kind of magic he’d been thinking of when he said that. He was thinking love and friendship and perfect presents and the fake Santa thing, not a centuries-old feud that had apparently started when the Argent family had decided they were werewolf hunters.

Obvious, Argent means silver in French, like the silver bullet that supposedly kills werewolves in most movies - Stiles should have paid more attention in school, except he took Spanish and was terrible at it. Polish has always been more than enough for him.

Anyway, so werewolves. The Hale family is made up of werewolves. And while the baking enterprises are completely legit, so is the rivalry. It’s less werewolf murder these days according to Allison - mostly because Kate Argent didn’t get the chance to lock any more of the Hales in the bakery when she set it on fire - but relations are still not what anyone can call good. 

“Werewolves,” Stiles mutters to himself. “Fucking werewolves.” 

They’re not on set yet, which is the only reason why he can say that out loud. Because apparently the bad guys are werewolves too and they want to discredit the Hales and take over their position as supposed werewolf royalty. 

At least it’s starting to look more like a Hallmark movie again - there’s always some kind of royalty in those movies, right? And Hale has some princely vibes. Maybe. A little. 

Stiles is not going to think too hard on that though, when there’s a competition to sabotage. Just in time for the holidays, because this is obviously right in line with the spirit of Christmas. Weeding out evil by being a prick and Allison performing outright sabotage. 

At least she allowed him to pick the winner of the competition. 

“I miss Derek,” Stiles mutters to himself as he arrives at the studio and makes his way onto the soundstage. “I need someone to insult a little bit. And eye candy. He’s just so pretty.” 

Right, definitely not what he’s supposed to be saying. Probably. Saying nice things about Hale is definitely part of the plan, but Stiles’ hate boner that has now kind of turned into a ‘I find him tolerable’ boner - not part of the plan, even though Stiles would be kidding himself if he wasn’t aware that Allison knows about it. She’s always been the person who knows everything. 

Shit, Stiles really hopes that Scott doesn’t hate him for teaming up with his ex, even though it’s kind of for the greater good. And Scott loves the greater good, that sap. 

“Time to do your part,” Allison mutters at him as she passes by. 

He was almost doing his part for a second there, but he can do better. As long as someone just gets him started, he will happily get all the word vomit about Derek - about Hale - out of the way before the cameras start rolling. It’s like he’s been holding it in since Hale was kicked off the show, and even when Stiles hated the guy, he still had to talk about him all the time. 

Yeah, the hate boner should have been obvious to him a lot sooner. 

“Stiles,” Bittle finds him almost immediately. “I didn’t see you after Derek left.” 

And apparently that is something that worried the other baker, which is just… a level of consideration that Stiles is pretty sure he doesn’t deserve. This guy may not take anyone’s shit, but he’s also way nicer than he should be. 

Maybe that’s just the holiday spirit? Stiles would not feel good about his own behavior if the guy was actually just that nice. Though, technically he’s fighting evil now. 

“I needed a minute,” Stiles tries to describe his conversation with Allison without outright lying. 

Apparently werewolves can hear it if people are lying and that’s just… not something he can deal with right now, and definitely something that he wished he’d known about a lot sooner. He’s been talking a lot of smack and being sarcastic and it’s probably a miracle that he hasn’t been kicked off the show yet. Though he shouldn’t say that out loud. 

That’s just asking the evil werewolves to kick him out of the competition. 

“Must suck to go on without your not-boyfriend,” Bittle nudges him gently. 

“No more kissing in the pantry,” Stiles pretends to mourn the absence of the very much non-existent make-out sessions. “Anywhere else would just not be hygienic.” 

Bittle is laughing at him, which is just fine by Stiles. The guy obviously knows about pantry kisses, and Stiles wholeheartedly approves. Shit, it makes him think of all the pantry kissing him and Hale haven’t done - hate-fueled kisses can be super hot and now that Stiles pretty much doesn’t hate Hale anymore, there’s no chance he’ll strike that off his list. 

At least he’s no longer denying that he’d absolutely be down for kissing Hale. Like, a lot. He looks like he’s a good kisser too, and wow Stiles is getting off-book again. 

Time to focus on the plan. The plan is what’s important right now, not his own spank bank material about Hale. He can always get back to that later. After. When it’s done. 

“He didn’t deserve to go,” Stiles finally lets it rip, so to say. “I tried his dish. It was incredible. Possibly better than mine, and I don’t say that lightly. I wouldn’t dare say it in front of the cameras - not on purpose anyway. He’d never let me live it down.” 

He’s proud of himself for just sneaking what was left of Hale’s amazing muffins out of the kitchen on his way out - because obviously people were trying to get his attention and he couldn’t be seen doing this on camera. This being stuffing a whole muffin down his gullet without taking the time to breathe, and then eating the rest of them in a slightly less frenzied case of the munchies. Because they were just that good. Hale is just that good. 

Fucking evil werewolves. 

Not a sentence that he ever thought he’d say. What is his life right now? 

“He’s very talented,” Bittle seems to agree with that, at least. “I can’t comment on his dish, because someone had finished all of it by the time I got there.” 

Stiles left nothing but crumbs behind, because if he’s going to steal something, he’s damn well going to do it right. That’s just what he learned being the Sheriff’s son: how to steal things and not get caught at it. Or how to hide food from people (mostly his Dad). 

It’s a skill that he’s had to hone, especially since he started baking more. 

“It was me,” Stiles shrugs. 

“Obviously,” Bittle grins at him, that little shit. “I’m glad you see it too, now.” 

A few days ago Stiles probably would have denied it, and asked some kind of dumb question as a way to pretend that he had no idea what Bittle was talking about. Apparently a lot of character growth has taken place over the course of those few days. Sure, Stiles is probably still an asshole, but he’s definitely not as bad as he used to be. 

Ugh, Scott is probably proud of him right now, that sap. He’s so kind. Ugh. 

“Don’t announce that too much,” Stiles tells his - friend? “You won’t win if you say that. And you should. Win, I mean. You deserve it. I’m just an asshole with a complex about money.” 

None of that is a lie, and all of it is whispered very softly. People will be listening. 

And when he says people, he definitely means evil werewolves with a vendetta. 

His fucking life. Seriously. 

* * *

Naturally Stiles ends up in the bottom two for the next challenge. Honestly, he’s not even surprised, not with how blatant he’s been about his appreciation for Hale’s culinary gifts - and some of his other… assets. At this point he figures that he might as well give the hashtag Sterek fans what they want. Especially seeing as it’s what Stiles wants too. 

Shit, he kind of wants to go find Hale right now and tell him that. Partly because maybe it’ll actually happen, and partly because he just really wants to see the look on Hale’s face when Stiles tells him that. He imagines it’ll be something to remember. 

“I quit,” Stiles finds himself saying before he thinks it through. 

Sure, this might not help Allison’s plan, but well, he was always going to be eliminated at some point before the finale, and it might as well be now. Because he can’t be here any longer, listening to this hypocritical bullshit and not saying anything about it. He just wants to go back to his bakery and do a lot of research on werewolves and maybe find out if Hale took his request for a Christmas card seriously. 

If not, Stiles is pretty sure he can find a way to send Hale a gift of his own. 

“You what?” Isaac the host just gapes at him. 

“I think I’m not who should be winning this thing,” Stiles smiles, trying to make it as enigmatic as possible. “Happy holidays, everyone. Allison, please beg for Scott’s forgiveness at some point.” 

It’s probably as good of an exit line as he’s going to get, especially with Hale no longer around to provide him with some fun banter. For some reason the banter is always better when there’s at least a little frustration tangled up with the sexual tension he didn’t realize was there until very recently. But hey, they can’t actually keep him here, and he can go and find Hale. 

Probably. Even if he has to stalk some Hale businesses to find him. 

The restraining order has totally expired by now, so some mild stalking charges would be fine, especially since this would be a totally new target. Or something. 

“Before you go,” Erica stops him, a proud smile on her face. 

That probably doesn’t bode well for him, but he can be fine with that. He wants to fix up that age-old friendship between him and Erica, and if that means that she gets to make fun of him for a bit, he’s fine with that. He has a feeling it’s about Hale. 

“Catwoman?” Stiles completely ignores the drama he’s managed to start. 

“Shut up, Batman,” Erica tells him. “I have some things to show you. We’re going to need to get you out of the river in Egypt at some point. You’ve been making some decent progress, but you should know that it’s definitely not just you. At all.” 

Alright, so it is definitely about Hale and it is going to get really embarrassing really quickly, and they probably need to get off the set to properly deal with all of this, because any mentions of Hale around the evil werewolves (still, what the actual  _ fuck _ is his life right now?) would just make things a whole lot worse. Sure, Stiles knows, but they can’t know that he knows. 

So Stiles motions for Erica to head towards the exit as they talk. He’s seen the West Wing - or a couple of episodes, anyway - he knows what a walk and talk looks like. 

He’s always wanted to do that. 

“What isn’t just me?” Stiles likes that river in Egypt, at least a little bit. 

“Just shut up and watch,” Erica rolls her eyes. 

Yep, there will definitely be videos or photos - or both. Whatever Erica has managed to find to embarrass Stiles and Hale at the same time. Does Stiles want to start considering just what that is, or does he want to let himself be surprised as well as embarrassed?

Right now he’s just letting himself be just a little worried about Hale. Ugh, how far he’s come. 

“Did you talk to him?” Stiles has to ask first. 

“Aw, you’re worried about him,” Erica is not going to make this easy for him. “He’s as good as it gets. Boyd’s been looking after him. Your boy is in good hands.” 

Insert dirty joke in three, two, one. Obviously Erica will have a lot to say about her Boyd, but Stiles is just kind of relieved that someone is looking after Hale, even though he should probably deny all claims of Hale belonging to Stiles in any kind of way. Well, he used to be Stiles’ nemesis, but now he’s just kind of… Stiles’ something. It’s hard to describe. 

And a prelude to the embarrassment that is still to come. 

“The greatest, according to you,” Stiles always has time for a terrible joke. “I’m sure you have a ton of jokes waiting for me about the magic he can create with those hands.” 

If he knows Erica at all, still, and he thinks he does, she will absolutely take Stiles up on that at some point. Both because she lives to embarrass him, and because she’s just that happy now. And while Stiles may roll his eyes at her primary reason, that secondary reason is pretty damn good. He likes seeing Erica happy like this, like she wasn’t back in the olden days. 

“Of course,” Erica’s grin is even more evil now. “But I’m saving that until after I’ve embarrassed both you and my Alpha with your blatantly obvious heart eyes.” 

Oh, obviously Erica is a werewolf too. Really, he shouldn’t have been surprised. It explains some - or all - of the healthy glow that surrounds her these days. 

Being turned into a werewolf probably fixes epilepsy, doesn’t it? 

“Alpha?” Stiles bats his eyelashes at Erica. 

“Did you really think I didn’t know that you know now?” Erica snarks at him. “You’re super obvious about it, muttering to yourself about evil werewolves all the time. Seriously, you’re lucky you haven’t slipped up in front of some of the other crew members. They wouldn’t take it well.” 

Yeah, Stiles kind of doesn’t want to die. He has a business to run and a hot werewolf to chase down at some point. And yes, his priorities are perfectly not straight. 

Because there is obviously nothing straight about him. 

“I can be subtle,” Stiles vehemently defends himself. 

“You don’t even believe that,” Erica says right as they make their way outside. “Anyway, can I embarrass you now? I’ve been waiting for this pretty much since the second we met again and Derek got all pissy thinking that you’d hurt my feelings somehow.” 

Yeah, Stiles is not surprised that Erica has just been biding her time until she got to drag out the most embarrassing receipts that she’d gathered on him (and on Hale, presumably). He’s not even surprised that she’s probably been planning this since they were reintroduced to each other when the competition started. He is mostly just surprised that Hale only really got pissed at him because he thought that Stiles was being a dick to Erica. 

He would never, of course. 

“That’s why he hates me?” Stiles just gapes at Erica. 

Or is it  _ hated _ instead?

“Obviously,” she returns almost immediately. “If he ever hated you at all, because he’s been ridiculously into you almost since the beginning. And I have actual evidence to show you.” 

Stiles is prepared for embarrassment when Erica once again opens up social media, once again shows him messages that always carry a Sterek tag or a mention of the two of them together. She points out some of the particularly descriptive posts just to make him blush, and she laughs when pointing out the thrilled look on Stiles’ face in the many pictures that have been shared by some particularly enthusiastic fans. 

For some reason Stiles looks particularly alive when he’s talking to Hale. 

“Wow, that’s embarrassing,” Stiles states the obvious. 

“Only if it’s not mutual,” Erica closes one app only to open up another. “Watch this.” 

She starts a video, apparently a compilation of Derek ‘heart eyes’ Hale, which is not a description that Stiles had ever thought of attributing to Hale. Stiles is pretty sure that while Hale may not actually hate him - and probably has never really hated him as much as Stiles has been hating Hale - there is no way that any look of his could be described as heart eyes. Especially not any look he’s been shooting at  _ Stiles _ of all people. 

The people would call that shipper goggles, he knows that much. 

“Hale?” Stiles argues with Erica over the opening of the video. “Heart eyes?” 

Erica just shushes him and makes sure he watches the video. Seven minutes and forty-two seconds of video that is pretty much nothing but Hale looking at Stiles in an increasingly infatuated manner - but only when Stiles is not looking at him. When Stiles looks at Hale, the murder brows return for as long as their gazes clash. 

The second Stiles looks away, Hale is back to unabashedly ogling. 

“This is just the footage that’s made it on the air,” Erica is laughing in Stiles’ face at this point. “There is so much more where this came from. But I’m saving that for your wedding.” 

Great, for an event that will never happen, to save Stiles any further embarrassment. Though technically it’s Hale who should be embarrassed about basically drooling over Stiles when Stiles was actively in the throes of hatred. Like, Hale is the one who should be blushing and trying to think of words to say that might actually make sense - but instead Stiles is finding himself almost lost for words. And that is not something that happens to him very often. 

“This is not real,” Stiles argues. 

“Do you want me to start the next video?” Erica points to the one she has in mind. 

Seeing as it’s called ‘Stiles undressing Derek Hale with his eyes for 10 minutes’, Stiles is pretty sure that he does not want her to do that. 

* * *

When he’d initially pictured seeing Hale again after the competition, he’d been picturing himself holding a ridiculous trophy and just kind of shoving it in Hale’s face as he showed up at Hale’s place of business and just showed off for a full business day. He’d been picturing the gloating and the murder brows that Hale would give him in return and maybe a quick hate sex session in the back somewhere - or in a panty, because apparently that was a thing. 

Reality is pretty much nothing like that. 

Stiles finds himself standing in front of a modest house with a large backyard, nowhere near the ridiculous mansions that he’d always expected the Hales to live in. He checks the address Erica had painstakingly written down for him (‘seriously? You can’t just put it in your GPS?’) one more time to make sure that he hasn’t misread it, and then he knocks on the front door. 

He’s not sure if he’s hoping that Hale isn’t home, or that he is. He’s still considering his preferred option when the door opens and reveals someone who is definitely not Derek. 

“You must be Stiles,” a dark-skinned giant smiles at Stiles. 

“You must be Erica’s Boyd,” Stiles just looks him up and down for a moment. “I thought she was exaggerating, but clearly she actually found Prince Charming. Good for her.” 

This guy definitely matches the description that Erica has given of Boyd, and Stiles will probably have to apologize to her for thinking that she was exaggerating about how good-looking her Boyd is. It’s not just the looks though, that have Stiles charmed. It’s the openness, it’s his vibe that screams calmth and warmth and support. Yeah, Erica was not lying about any of it. 

“The Big Bad Wolf is inside,” Boyd’s grin just makes him even more handsome - go Erica! 

And a sense of humor too, which is especially great when Stiles looks down at his own body and realizes that in his hurry to get here, he just yanked on the first clean hoodie that he could find. A red one. It’s like he’s Little Red Riding Hoodie, waiting for the Wolf to get him. 

Though, he probably would have done it on purpose if he’d thought about it. 

“I swear I didn’t wear this hoodie on purpose,” Stiles wants to facepalm so badly. 

“Come in,” Boyd motions with one elegant hand. “I can’t promise that he won’t eat you, or at least try to, but I’m sure you won’t mind it if he does.”

Stiles laughs at that, loudly and completely without reservation. A snort or two may escape as well, but Boyd doesn’t point it out to him so Stiles will just pretend that he managed to pull off some semblance of normalcy for at least a few seconds. Still, he’s kind of hoping that Hale hasn’t heard any of that - the comment or the embarrassing laughter. 

There’s nothing particularly sexy about that, and while he hasn’t just come here to seduce Hale, he’s not saying he’s not hoping that it happens anyway. 

So he steps inside the surprisingly modest home, trying to at least stop snickering for a few seconds so that he can get his composure back. Maybe get a conversation going, so that he isn’t just standing here awkwardly while he figures out where Hale is. 

“Derek, you can stop hiding now,” Boyd doesn’t even raise his voice. 

Right, werewolves. Super hearing is definitely part of the package. Stiles is going to need a bit more time to get used to that. He remembered, but it’s not something he consciously takes into account when he’s addressing a werewolf - which he’s assuming that he is. Boyd looks strong for a human, but Stiles has a feeling that there’s more to him than that. 

“I’m not hiding,” Hale just sounds sulky - and like he’s right behind Stiles. 

“Fuck,” Stiles cusses and flails dramatically. “What silent feet you have.” 

Seriously, can he just put a bell on him somehow? He’s pretty sure that Hale’s pulled that trick once or twice during the competition, but it’s particularly startling now that Stiles is actually standing in his house. Yeah, he’d never thought he’d ever be here. 

Enemies don’t usually hang out in each other’s houses. Or do they?

“All the better to surprise you with,” Hale almost effortlessly continues the banter. 

It makes Stiles kind of want to find out where the bedroom is in this place. Banter is sexy. 

“I’m getting out of here before this gets R-rated,” Boyd pointedly sniffs, grins at the both of them and then immediately starts heading for the door. “Please give me a minute or so before you start talking about big appendages and any biting or eating that will be going on.” 

Look, there are probably several big things about Hale that Stiles hasn’t taken the proper time to consider until now. He’s pretty much just been going with the flow and doing whatever makes the most sense for whatever ridiculous piece of information he’d been forced to deal with this time, and that hasn’t exactly left him a lot of time to appreciate Hale’s… assets. 

Though according to the internet, he’s done at least ten minutes worth of appreciating. 

“This is not why I made you my second,” Hale is… grinning? 

“No, that’s because I’m your favorite,” Boyd calls out over his shoulder before closing the door behind him. “Your boy might as well figure that out now.” 

Boyd and Erica make so much fucking sense right now. 

Hale, however, is making less and less sense by the minute. This is not the Hale that Stiles met for the very first time on their first day of shooting. This is not the surly guy who’d been trying so hard to be perfect even though he knew that most people on set hated him, or the shy guy who’d requested that they not include the footage of him being less than a perfect son to his mother. This isn’t even the surprisingly talented baker who’d managed to blow Stiles away, or the loyal friend who’d been prepared to hate Stiles to protect Erica. 

This guy? He’s none and all of those things and it’s… infuriatingly arousing. 

“You have a sense of humor,” that’s the thing that Stiles is most surprised about. 

“Evil rich people do have those, occasionally,” Hale pointedly remarks. “It’s not like there’s a cutoff wage.” 

Alright, Stiles probably deserves that one. Actually, he definitely deserves that one and he won’t be surprised if Hale gets in a few more of those zingers by the time this is over. 

“Stop making me like you,” Stiles huffs. 

“No,” Hale responds. 

He’s smiling though, that asshole. He is enjoying this way too much, is enjoying having Stiles in his house and having Stiles no longer hate him, is probably enjoying dragging Stiles down to his level of pathetic crushing. Because Stiles is definitely falling a bit here. 

Or more than a bit, because of the smile and the smirk and the fucking jokes. 

Not quite evil, rich, hot, talented, loyal guys aren’t supposed to have a sense of humor too - how is that even fair? How is Stiles supposed to compare? 

“I quit the show,” Stiles figures he might as well surprise Hale. 

“You’re an idiot,” Hale tells him. 

And he doesn’t even have the decency to look surprised - which means that someone’s already told him. Stiles knows it’s probably Erica, because she’s extremely unsubtle like that. He wouldn’t be surprised if she had a video viewing session with Hale as well at some point.

“I’m principled,” Stiles corrects Hale. “I’m standing up against evil werewolves and making super shady deals with Allison Argent to make sure that Bittle wins it all in the end. Scotty is probably going to hate me for that a little bit, but I think it’s going to be worth it if it means that the evil werewolves don’t get what they want. And he really deserves it, so.”

Look, Stiles can accept that some people are better than him. In a myriad of ways. It’s easy to accept when it’s Bittle, and incredibly hard to accept when it’s someone like Hale. Because a guy like that isn’t supposed to be better than Stiles. 

Not in any way that doesn’t involve money and those damn hotness genes. Except… 

“I thought you didn’t like rich guys?” Hale is smart and so fucking infuriating. 

“He’s giving his prize money to charity,” Stiles just shrugs, trying to play it cool. “Which definitely makes him nicer than the both of us. Especially me. I’m an asshole.” 

Stiles Stilinski is not the nicest of guys, and he’s going to have to deal with that. Deal with his pride in being a self-made businessman and the inherent superiority he believes he has because of it, and with his prejudice against rich people and how they aren’t all bigoted assholes who only got to where they are because of family connections. 

Mother _ fucker _ , is he Elizabeth Bennet? Does that make Hale Mr. Darcy? 

“I was going to put the money into a foundation for underprivileged kids,” Hale admits, just a little bit smug about it. “Teach them how to bake, get them jobs in the food industry.” 

Shit, Hale is definitely Mr. Darcy and that is not something that Stiles can be expected to deal with in any kind of manner that could be described as mature or adult. Well, okay, maybe it could be described as adult but in a whole different way. 

Because Hale has never been more attractive to him. Fucked up? Probably. True? Definitely. 

“Alright, take off your pants,” Stiles orders before getting on his knees. 

Instead of following orders like a good little - or not so little - rich boy, Hale just stands there and gapes at him. He’s barely even breathing, it seems, his eyes scrunched closed and - oh, Stiles is definitely threatening his composure right now. That’s kind of really fucking hot, and he totally should have taken Erica up on her offer to tell him some wolfbait tricks. 

Supposedly to drive Hale mad. And yeah, Stiles should have known that is what he wants to do, in so many different ways. Least of all by getting on his knees and blowing Hale’s mind. 

If the guy ever moves again. Stiles may have broken him already. 

“I’m not kidding, Hale,” Stiles motions for Hale to get on with it already. 

Still there is no response, which is just disappointing. Honestly, Stiles thought they’d get on with the whole Big Bad Wolf and Little Red Riding Hoodie theme and there’d be some more jokes about Hale’s big teeth and how he could just eat Stiles up or whatever. He can make up some more porny dialogue to go with that, easily. If Hale’s into it. 

Which, it definitely seems like he is, judging by the big… piece of evidence that Stiles is currently faced with. Except he’s just not doing anything about it. Stiles is starting to suspect that Hale is one of those romantics. 

That should really just turn him off - and yet… 

“If you’re going to blow me,” Hale may or may not be blushing, “can you at least call me by my first name? I know you think the enemies thing is hot, but… I’d like you to call me Derek.” 

From his current angle, Stiles really can’t tell if Hale’s cheeks are actually turning red - possibly his ears as well - or if it’s just a trick of the light, but the idea of the great Derek Hale actually blushing because of him? Super fucking hot. Like, Stiles is even more down now than he was before, and that’s really saying something. 

The name thing, though? Not so hot. More sappy than in any way sexy. 

“Ugh,” Stiles complains. “Do I have to?” 

Yeah, he likes Hale. He doesn’t hate him anymore - obviously. But does that really mean that he has to start calling him by his first name? That would be weird. 

That would mean that Stiles has given up on the vendetta and that him and Hale might have an actual thing going on and Stiles really doesn’t mean to sound like one of those douches who supposedly have commitment issues, but like… It feels like it would be moving too fast, somehow, to start calling Hale by his first name from now on. 

Unlike offering to blow him in his hallway, which is not moving too fast at all. 

“Unless you want me to call you Mieczyslaw?” Hale’s eyes are open and focused on Stiles. 

Ugh. Stiles can’t even blame him for having that information because he’s the one who revealed that to Hale and the entirety of the show’s audience. But he wants to blame Hale - it’s just so easy to be annoyed with him and to bicker instead of dealing with shit. 

Still, even though his knees aren’t in the most comfortable position, he’s not getting up any time soon - unless that’s what Hale wants. And he doesn’t think it is. 

That… piece of evidence is making that very obvious still. 

Doesn’t mean Stiles can’t mess with Hale a little bit more. That’s never not fun. 

“You  _ are _ evil,” Stiles gasps dramatically. “I may never have a boner again.” 

He might be exaggerating just the slightest bit there, but he just can’t believe that Hale would do that to him. His actual first name, because Hale either remembers Stiles using it or he is ridiculous enough to rewatch the already aired episodes. Yeah, maybe it’s that second option, Hale doing some proper research after Erica undoubtedly showed him the same videos she’d shown Stiles. Hale seems like the type to want to see it for himself. 

But still.. Mieczyslaw. Ugh. That’s just such a terrible thing to say. 

“Liar,” Hale tells him. 

Wow, so apparently werewolves can even tell when a person is exaggerating and/or just lying to themselves. That is very important information that he definitely needs to know about. 

“Did your weird werewolf nose tell you that?” Stiles looks up at Hale with a smirk. 

“Just get up so I can kiss you,” Hale sighs. 

That kind of sounds like a plan. Maybe it’s a bit weird to get on his knees before they’ve even kissed each other - not that anything about whatever it is that’s going on between the two of them could ever be described as something even slightly resembling normal. But yeah, it’s not like Stiles would ever object to some kissing and possibly heavy petting. 

_ Petting _ . Because Hale is a wolf. A werewolf. 

“If I must,” Stiles lets Hale help him up. 

* * *

Stiles is at Hale’s - Derek’s - apartment when the finale of their dumb show finally airs. Because he’s been either at the Hale house or at work these past few weeks - he’s definitely got his priorities straight - or queer - like that. Business has been booming, and whenever he’s not working he just kind of wants to throw himself at Ha- Derek and not think for a while, especially when the holiday rush just gets crazier and crazier until Stiles sleeps at the bakery once or twice. Or three times in a row, but that’s not the point. 

The point is that that’s kind of when Hale steps in and decides that he’ll be an extra pair of hands for Stiles to take advantage of - something he states very much in those words because he knows that Stiles is tired enough to giggle at the double entendre and H-Derek still loves embarrassing him on a pretty regular basis. 

Though according to Derek, Stiles just embarrasses himself. 

“Do you think they actually let Bittle win?” Derek asks. 

“I think Allison made that happen,” Stiles is basically a pile of goo on top of his dumb boyfriend at this point. “Did you know that she’s proficient in like… half a dozen weapons?” 

Suddenly the high school memories of Allison’s archery competitions - the ones that Scott always cheered her on for, inhaler in his pocket just in case - is pushed to the forefront of his mind. That woman is terrifying but he’s starting to think that it might not be all that bad, especially since Scott texted him yesterday that he’d decided to meet up with her for drinks after the holiday season was over. For closer. And so she could meet Kira. 

Derek, though, seems less than thrilled about Stiles suddenly extolling the virtues of Allison Argent, which makes sense. Sure, Derek’s been working on trying not to hate her, but it’s been slow-moving and Stiles really cannot blame him for that, not after he’d gotten the Hale side of the Hale vs Argent wars. Like, straight-up murder and attempts at werewolf genocide?

Sure, not actually Allison’s fault, but her aunt and possibly even mother were involved. 

“I know,” Derek is less than amused. 

“She’s using her powers for good, though,” Stiles feels like that’s an important distinction that needs to be made. “Helping the right people come out on top and all that. If Bittle wins, which he really fucking should, we should do something. Show our support?” 

Now he’s just blatantly distracting Hal-Derek. Not with his sexy self, for once, because he’s already done that a couple of times today and he’s worked a full ten hours so he’s kind of too exhausted to go again. At least for another hour or so. Maybe thirty minutes if Derek keeps massaging his sore muscles so nicely. 

Seems like he’s going for the best boyfriend award here. Stiles would gladly give it to him. 

“That’s suspiciously nice of you,” Derek just will not let him get away with that. 

“We should tweet a picture,” Stiles is on a roll now. “Put it on the ‘gram. Hashtag it.” 

Right, so that distraction is sort of working. It’s working because Derek definitely isn’t thinking about Allison and the Argents any more, but it’s not quite working because Derek is still so very suspicious of his motives for some completely valid reason. 

“You’re really still trying to crack the trending topics?” Derek sighs heavily, but Stiles knows that he secretly finds all of this endlessly entertaining. 

“Sterek for the win, baby,” Stiles is already trying to reach for his phone - and missing, because he’s made of goo, still. “We only have one shot to make this happen.” 

Look, he’s not actually all that obsessed with Twitter’s trending topics - only a little bit - but he’s kind of intrigued by the people who seem like they would be so very happy if they officially announced that they’re totally together now. It’s nice to feel like people care about them, that they have fans, that people somehow like Stiles even though he’s pretty sure he spent most of the first few episodes being an asshole to everyone - Derek in particular - and spent the rest of the episodes being a dick to everyone except Derek and Bittle. So yeah, Stiles is surprised he didn’t get the villain edit, and pleased that people appreciate his brand of dumbassery. 

Also, did he mention that it’s totally good for business? 

“Baby?” Hale -  _ Derek _ \- is less than impressed. 

“Babe, sweetheart, darling,” Stiles manages to get the energy to bat his eyelashes at his stupidly hot werewolf boyfriend. “People care about our super sexy love story.” 

Apparently enemies to lovers totally sells - even though Stiles doesn’t really know how much of the enemies thing is obvious to the casual viewers. When Stiles watched the early episodes, he thought it was super fucking obvious that he couldn’t stand Derek fucking Hale. And when he watched the episodes after that, he thought it was super fucking obvious that he wanted to hate Derek fucking Hale, but also kind of wanted to fuck him somewhere backstage. 

Maybe people are right when they say that Stiles isn’t particularly subtle about his feelings. 

“You hating me for dumb reasons is very sexy,” Derek is probably laughing at him. 

Stiles manages to sit up a little bit more to sneak a peek at his dumb boyfriend’s face, only to realize that Derek is definitely laughing at him. And yeah, Stiles kind of wants to take offense at that because it’s just rude and he can’t just let that happen, right? 

He still has to win, even though he doesn’t really hate Derek anymore. 

“Excuse me,” Stiles is not completely unoffended. 

“The fuck me eyes, though?” Derek continues. “Those were sexy.” 

Much better. Much, much better. 

It’s kind of awkward to be confronted with his own ridiculous level of thirst for a guy he claimed to hate at the time of shooting, but yes, Stiles is perfectly fine with Derek’s appreciation for his elevator eyes. He’s more fine with it now that he’s seen Derek’s own version of hungry eyes more than once - or twice, or thrice, or… Well let’s just say he’s seen them a whole lot. 

This is the honeymoon phase, after all. They’re like bunnies.

“We still haven’t had pantry sex,” Stiles suddenly remembers. “We should do that.” 

There’s something ironic about them fucking like bunnies when there’s a werewolf involved, but it seems more important to focus on the places they have not yet done their very best bunny impression. Because pantry sex is definitely still on his list - the list that will never be finished. 

Derek just keeps doing things that are so hot they give Stiles capital I Ideas. 

“Sure,” Derek acquiesces very easily, which means he’s totally into it. “As soon as you’re not a pile of goo. And we can give your hardworking employees some time off. And we clean after.” 

All perfectly valid additions to the plan. Stiles takes pride in running a perfectly hygienic bakery, and he really doesn’t want to traumatize the workers - even though he’s definitely brought Derek along with him to work just to show off. The first few times, anyway, until Derek started rolling up his very literal sleeves and started helping out. 

Get you a man who can do everything. 

“So demanding,” Stiles pouts. 

Derek will probably understand that it means that Stiles is totally down - whenever Derek wants to get down, Stiles is totally down. He doesn’t understand that his libido is ready at all times even though his energy level is so fucking low. He’s been working that hard, and yet…

It’s just because his boyfriend is stupid hot and a little mean. Obviously. 

“I think we’ve missed half the episode by now,” Derek huffs. 

“Maybe five minutes,” Stiles rolls his eyes. “They haven’t announced the winner yet.” 

Obviously, Bittle turns out to be the winner of the competition. Literally no one is surprised, except Bittle himself, because he’s ridiculously sweet and humble as he talks about the charity that will receive his prize money and how he loves the holiday season because it’s a time when people come together, and wait a minute, did he just? 

Somehow that speech is enough to start a very, very cheesy montage of Stiles and Derek Hale doing that very thing, coming together. Every single moment between the two of them that has somehow been caught on camera - from ugly bickering to heart eyes and sultry looks - is underscored with a cheesy holiday love ballad, because Erica is a massive troll who must have had a hand in this somehow. She’s all over this bullshit. 

This… kind of embarrassing yet kind of charming bullshit. 

“I don’t think we’ll need the tweet,” Derek definitely sounds like he’s laughing. 

And then the lovey-dovey shit turns into a straight-up expose of the biased judges and the manipulations behind the scenes. There’s conversations between Stiles and Bittle, Stiles and Allison, and pretty much anyone they could get in front of a camera. Even host Isaac is involved at some point, and he’s just appreciating everything Allison has to say and nodding furiously while throwing out some subtle attempts at flirting. 

Wow, the guy can multitask, it’s almost impressive. 

Still, it ends with the exposure of all the nefarious plots against the Hales, without anyone ever even having to mention the w-word. Because that’s definitely not something that should be revealed on a holiday baking show. 

Derek is suspiciously quiet, though. So clearly something is wrong here. 

“That escalated quickly,” Stiles teases, sitting up straight finally. 

It’s still incredibly difficult to get on Derek’s level here, but he manages somehow - probably because Derek is helping him out a little here and there. And then finally Stiles is faced with his annoyingly perfect boyfriend, who just looks at the TV screen in shock. 

“Allison did that?” Derek’s voice is a little thick. 

“Duh,” Stiles pats his scruffy cheek. “Making amends, beating the evil werewolves, exposing the anti-Hale sentiment in the baking industry. Though I feel like you’re really not appreciating my part in all of the shenanigans. I had a character arc, Derek! I went from hater of everything Hale to falling in love with the best Hale of them all.” 

That is definitely enough to earn him a dramatic eye roll - a skill that Derek has somehow managed to perfect - and some serious sass brows. Stiles strikes gold on his character arc comment, because Derek definitely goes from looking vaguely constipated and murder-y - his default response to emotions he doesn’t know how to deal with at all - to annoyingly straight-faced and ready for banter. It’s a good look on him. Very distracting. 

“You’re ridiculous,” Derek totally isn’t emotional or anything. 

“And you’re annoyingly perfect,” Stiles grins at his dumb boyfriend. “We all have our crosses to bear. Like Jesus. Because it’s almost Christmas.” 

A brand-new relationship is tricky to manage during the holiday season, but seeing as Stiles’ Dad will probably be working as usual, Stiles has reluctantly agreed to spend the holidays with Derek. Which hopefully means that they’ll be hanging out with Erica and Boyd, though Derek has been more than a little bit vague on the details. 

Stiles is obviously suspicious and definitely going to question him about it in a moment of weakness - possibly right after sex tonight. It’s been at least twenty minutes, right? 

But first, he has to make that tweet about Sterek. The world deserves to know. 

“Wait, why is your mom texting me?” Stiles finally manages to grab his phone. “Why is she saying that she can’t wait to meet me? On your birthday? Derek? When’s your birthday?” 

Stiles Stilinski hates Derek Hale and his dumb grin. And his family holidays. And his Christmas baby-ness. 

The holidays are definitely going to be interesting this year. 


End file.
